


Guillotine

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, set before the black paladin, theyre both pining if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alternatively titled "Keith and Lance sleep for three days"
Homesickness is a plague, and sometimes you just need to be taken care of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this has only been in the works for like a month and is unrevised as of now so if you see a typo or mistake let me know!

Lance never knew just how much he could miss his family. Going to the Garrison and getting away from the drama and the fighting and the stress was such a reprieve that he never believed being away from them could hurt so bad. With every passing day the dull aching of homesickness twisted its blunt knife in his gut, promising it’ll hurt less the next day. Even the stars, unfamiliar and nothing like the ones at home but still comforting, brought on a new wave of sadness. Painkilling hugs and a forehead kiss or two could mimic relief, but never quite get the job done. And so here he was, crying into his jacket like a fucking kid. His fingers shook and dug harder into the fabric of his jacket and he couldn’t believe how hard it was to inhale, even when he lifted his head to suck in the stale air. His forced silence was forgotten when he crumbled again, eyes squeezing shut. He tried so hard to choke down his sobbing and suffocate the sounds tearing through his throat, but they ripped at his tonsils like gnarled fingernails.

 

And then he was smothered in a firm shoulder, clinging to a thin waist like a lifeline. There was no moment of thought before Lance was shaking again, body wracked with violent, broken wailing. His tears flowed freely and his heart hammered painfully against his ribs, lungs screaming for more air. Slender fingers worked through his hair expertly, blunted fingernails gently grazing his scalp. For a split second, he wanted to know who was there, dismissing it as Shiro and holding on tighter, savoring the pressure and uninterrupted concern radiating from the arms holding him together. The seemingly disembodied hand danced between his hair and his shoulder blades, the other arm curled tightly around him, holding him close. Words made it to his ears, but the voice was slow and soft, unrecognizable at its volume. Part of Lance wanted to know why exactly Shiro was anywhere near the main control hub, however he was soon distracted by a cheek pressing gently against the top of his head, his visitor quietly humming an endless tune.

 

He, of course, couldn’t cry forever, and just nestled his head in the now very distinctively pleather jacket collar until he’d caught his breath. For half a second, he wanted to move away and apologize, or even grind his teeth and tell Keith to leave him alone. The gravity of the situation, and what exactly he was doing, weighed on the both of them, but the room stayed virtually silent. There was no rushing Lance, just incoherent murmuring and more seemingly uncharacteristic hair stroking. When he finally did sit back up, Keith reached into the pocket of his jacket and pressed a handful of crumpled tissues into Lance’s palm. He didn’t dare say anything, just giving him a sympathetic look with tired eyes and letting go with some hesitation. Even then, he just sat back on his heels, unblinking eyes trained on Lance.

 

“Sorry about that.” Lance said, voice quiet. 

 

“Don’t be. I get it.” Keith nodded.

 

“Well yeah, I think we’re all homesick.”

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not homesick.”

 

“How are you not homesick?” Lance sat back on his heels as well, voice back to its natural volume. 

 

“Well, I am, but not like you. You have people to go home to, my house will always be there waiting for me.” Keith nodded again, averting his eyes for the time being, “I miss Earth, yeah, but not because there are people waiting on me there.”

 

“Where’s your Earth family?” 

 

“I don’t have one.”

 

Lance didn’t bother asking for an explanation, simply planting his head back on Keith’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Keith didn’t hesitate in returning to his hair stroking and hugging, resting his head on Lance’s. His cheek squished against the side of his head again, fingers stilling in hair at the nape of his neck. His thoughts raced around and around, hunting and pecking for the right words to say that would neither negate or aggravate the open wound.

 

“You’re going to see them again.” He murmured.

 

“You don’t know that.” Lance spit back with more anger than he intended.

 

“Shiro was dead for a year, and then he came back. There’s always hope. If he can get home, so can you.”

 

“What if I die up here?”

 

“I’ll kill you if you die up here.”

 

“Okay.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

Silence overtook the room, and they just lied against each other, both severely lacking energy and motivation. Lance dozed for a while, finding unexpected comfort in the faint sound of Keith’s pulse and steady breaths. After a span of time, Keith moved, hooking an arm down around Lance’s waist as he slowly started to get up, careful to hold on tight and prevent Lance from falling. Lance, for the time being, just leaned on him, puffy eyes shut and hands closed around the bottom of Keith’s jacket. Every time either of them shifted too much, Lance had to lift his head and lie it back down, causing an annoying sound as the pleather clung to his cheek. After both of his feet were flat on the floor, the journey began. 

 

Once Keith made the trek to Lance’s room, he tried to lie him in his bed, failing miserably when Lance didn’t let go of his jacket. His knees caught on the edge of the mattress, failing to catch him when he tried not to actually drop Lance. Did that work out for him? Not a chance. Lance, now very awake and with Keith halfway on top of him, snorted, not yet releasing the worn pleather from his death grip. The toes of Keith’s boots scuffled and shuffled as he scrambled for purchase, hands pressing hard against Lance’s mattress. It, of course, only took him a few moments to regain his balance and make his way to the door, shame and embarrassment coursing through his veins. Lance kicked off his shoes to crawl underneath his blankets and snuggle down, watching Keith go before saying anything. 

 

“Goodnight, Keith.” He said stupidly, voice a little rough.

 

“Goodnight, Lance. I hope you feel better.” Keith replied with a smile. 

 

“You can stay, you know.” Lance whispered for no reason other than to keep Keith from hearing him. 

 

“Do you want me to?” Keith stopped his task of opening the door, opting to just listen, suppressing a yawn.

 

“Yeah, I don’t really like being alone at night. But only if you want to.” 

 

“Should I take off my jacket?”

 

“That’d be nice, yeah.” 

 

Keith shut the door again, hanging up his jacket and, very reluctantly, taking off his shoes to crawl into bed next to Lance. As per Lance’s request, he also left his knife on the floor beside his shoes before he got under the covers, head resting on the free side of the pillow. It took quite a few minutes for them both to shift around enough to both be comfortable. Keith originally lied with his back to Lance and knees curled up over his stomach and chest, like an armadillo. It took all of twenty-five seconds for Lance to start whining, though, causing Keith to elbow him gently and turn back over, moving into an unfamiliar position to him. His knee just barely touched the side of Lance’s hip, and Lance physically moved him into a better position, with Keith’s head nestled in the crook of his neck and one arm looped loosely around him to keep him there. Without any kind of hesitation, Keith pivoted to trap one of Lance’s legs with both of his own, smiling fondly as he shut his eyes. Lance’s free arm pulled the blankets up to Keith’s chin, tucking his friend in with a fond smile.

 

“I know it’s, like, the space equivalent of four in the morning, and you’re tired, but I really appreciate this. Not just the holding me when I cried, I mean. You make me feel safe.” Lance’s voice was a soothing hum and Keith can hardly keep his voice from trailing off into broken humming when he spoke. 

 

“Me too.” He mumbles, bumping Lance’s shoulder with his chin to get his point across. 

 

\---

 

The next morning was blissfully quiet, with only the soft sounds of breathing and the occasional murmur from either of the two boys. Lance, miraculously, woke up first, panic spreading through his chest at the sensation of an arm around his neck and breathing against his collarbone, before his memory hit him and he relaxed with a relieved chuckle to himself. His hand settled back on Keith’s side, tensing when there was bare skin from where his shirt had pulled up. There was a long moment of thought on whether he should or should not move his hand. In the end, he simply found the hem of Keith’s shirt and put his hand there instead.

 

Keith woke up a few times, but every time he just made one of those sleepy noises and nestled his face back into Lance’s shoulder, going back to sleep almost immediately. In the eons he spent yawning and sighing every time he stirred, Lance dozed with him. It took him actual hours to stay awake, and even then he didn’t really move. He just breathed and occasionally wiggled his shoulder to try to cover it with the blankets again. However, it took all of five minutes for him to notice that he was laying on someone and lose all of his relaxed demeanor and roll away from Lance, taking the blankets with him, in a silent panic as his brain processed. Lance whined, pulling the blankets, and therefore Keith’s unwilling body, back with a shiver. At first his whining was just that, but it translated into speech in record time.

 

“Shh, it’s just me. You’re safe, you’re okay.” Lance told him, reaching under the blankets to hold Keith gently by his shoulders and force eye contact, “It’s just me.”

 

The first thing he noticed was that Keith was trembling. His muscles were tight and his eyes were wide with a wild, animal-like fear. The second thing Lance noticed was how fast he was breathing, chest rising and falling rapidly, a soft wheeze building. There was a fraction of a second where actual terror crossed his face before he relaxed. A long, empty breath fell from his lips and he nodded allowing Lance to hold him. Goosebumps rose on his exposed arms, and he wrapped his arms loosely around Lance’s waist, burying his face deep in his shoulder. Lance smiled again, bending his neck to rest his head on Keith’s.

 

“I’m not used to this.” Keith mumbled into the fabric of Lance’s shirt, voice taking on the Typical Teenage Whine. 

 

“You don’t have to do it again if you don’t like it.” Lance assured him, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of Keith’s neck.

 

“No, I like it. It’s nice.” Keith mumbled, tipping his head up to instead press the underside of his chin to Lance’s shoulder, eyes shining when he smiled widely. “This is nice.”

 

“I’m glad you like it, too.” Lance’s face went a little pink, eyebrows jerking up towards his hairline. 

 

“How’d you sleep?” Keith’s voice was still sleepy, but his eyes were doing a little better at staying open. 

 

“Like a bug in a rug.” Lance shut his eyes to prevent himself from staring at Keith head on, “Who would’ve thought sleeping next to you would act as a natural sedative?”

 

“Maybe you’re just really comfortable with me.” Keith rolled onto his back again, pulling the hem of his shirt down as he did.

 

“Are you surprised that I am? I mean, we did have a bonding moment, didn’t we?” 

 

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?’

 

“Mmmmmmmnope.”

 

“Bite me.” 

 

Lance’s eyebrow quirked again, “Oh, kinky, are we?”

 

“You know it, Casanova.” Keith practically snickered, kneeing him in the hip. 

 

Lance’s eyes bulged out of his head, and his now opened eyes were met with Keith’s near-sultry expression. His face only got redder when said expression broke and Keith laughed, nose scrunched up and smile wider than his cheeks could handle. His shoulders shook and his spine curved as his hand covered his mouth and nose. Heart pounding, Lance rolled onto his back too, staring up at the ceiling and laughing as well. Keith’s face went a dark shade of red too, pushing his bangs out of his eyes to see clearer.

 

In the end, they were both holding their bellies and gasping for air, leaning on each other and giggling away the remnants of their previous conversation. There was no doubt that someone had probably heard them and questioned what was happening, but no one had bothered to open the door, or even knock for that matter. The homesickness came back to Lance in that moment, as memories of his family, specifically his siblings, back on Earth flooded into his thoughts, but he refrained from showing any kind of emotion that wasn’t positive. A lot of effort went into him not being sad, and the conversation dwindled away into quietness again. Keith didn’t push him, but he did turn back onto his side to look at him, chin propped on his palm and mouth curved into a frown.

 

“Do you want me to go get you some lunch? Or at least water?” He asked after a while, “You had a rough night, and you need to rehydrate.”

 

“I don’t want to get up.” Lance replied with just enough spin to make it sound like a joke.

 

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I offered to do it.”

 

“I’m not hungry right now. Maybe in a little while?” 

 

Keith nodded, and Lance gave him a tired smile, rubbing his eyes. Once they were both comfy again, his eyes fell out of focus, and he let his mind wander from his friends to his family and everything in between. Half an hour of sleepy shuffling later, Lance’s head was tucked under Keith’s chin, arms curled loosely around his waist. They were both bouncing between consciousness and unconsciousness, breathing long synched up. The blankets remained bunched up around their chests, regulating their collective body temperature. 

 

With sleep came dreams, and Lance couldn’t handle the vividly colored memories, curling in on himself as much as he possibly could with Keith in the way. Keith, snapping awake when Lance’s forehead pressed into his throat, held him again. His fingers combed through the hair on the back of his head, body shifting back to give Lance more space. Lance, however, was having none of that. He followed Keith, holding onto him like a lifeline. Fate, for once, acted in their favor, and no one barged in during their journey in hypnagogia. 

 

\---

 

They were awake for a while before either of them said anything, savoring the neutral silence and enjoying the contact with each other. The blankets had migrated down to their waists, allowing the slightest chill and providing motivation to stay cuddled up. That isn’t to say either of them would want to separate without the chill, though.

 

“Do you miss your shack?” Lance broke the silence eventually.

 

“Yeah, why?” Keith nodded, looking at him.

 

“Tell about it,” his tone was one of interest, “What was your favorite thing to do?”

 

“Climbing and exploring mostly. I liked making my big corkboard a lot, too. It was fun.”

 

“What did all of your corkboard stuff mean? I mean, I got the gist, but there was a lot going on.”

 

“I just drew and took pictures of things I was thinking about. Like, the weird energy.”

 

Lance goes quiet for almost an entire minute, voice coming out softer when he replied, “Do you think you were supposed to be the blue paladin?”

 

“No. Not at all.”

 

“Why not? Blue talked to you, not me.”

 

“The Blue Lion takes the most handsome and best pilot of the bunch, right?” 

 

“Yeah, why was she talking to you out in the desert? You’re not on my level.” 

 

“Well, I can’t say that I think that everything happens for a reason, because that’s a crock of shit. But I can say that she reached out to me, specifically, for a reason.” Keith moved back a slight bit to look down at Lance.

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“I was the only one listening.”

 

\---

 

Around dinnertime, Keith demanded that Lance have something to eat, extracting himself from the bed(regretfully) and standing by the door. Lance rolled over, flipping the bird at him and taking all the blankets for himself. With an eyeroll, Keith just opened the door, leaving his shoes and jacket behind as he made his way to the kitchen. On his way there, he passed Shiro, who raised an eyebrow at his state of undress, following close behind. 

 

As Keith loaded up two bowls with food goo, Shiro leaned on the counter beside him. His eyebrows were high on his forehead, arms crossed across his chest. 

 

“So, how is Casanova?” He asked, barely concealing his laughter.

 

“Go away, Shiro. I’m busy being a good friend. You should take notes.” Keith shot back, focusing on filling the bowls as fast as he could.

 

“Oh, if only I could cradle my friends in my arms!”

 

“I fucking hate you.”

 

“You did it again, didn’t you? You two totally snuggled up last night.”

 

“That’s none of your business.”

 

“I think it’s cute.”

 

“Hey, Shiro, if I get you a map, can you show me where I asked?”

 

Shiro, on his way back around the counter, ruffled Keith’s hair. Keith, of course, groaned and kicked at Shiro’s shins, storming back off to Lance’s room to avoid more ridicule. The walk was quiet and echoing, and gave him plenty of time to think about what he planned to do when he did get back to Lance’s room. Should he give him some space? Was he even necessary to Lance’s current coping mechanisms? Neither of his questions were answered by the time he reached the door, so he swallowed the anxiety, took a deep breath, and opened it. 

 

\---

 

Dinner was easy and relaxing, but mostly because there was no contest for it. The goo was just how it always was, and they were just as they always were. Nothing was different, and yet nothing felt the same. 

 

“Do you want me to stay again?” Keith finally asked, eager to get the words out of his mouth.

 

“Do you not want to?” Lance’s voice was rawer than before, as if his vocal chords were shredded.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Keith set his bowl on the floor, pulling his feet up, “I think I’d like it if you wanted me to stay over again.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

\---

 

Bedtime came a tad too soon, stealing the both of them away in its warm embrace. They hadn’t even lied down before the existential pillow talk began, Lance whispering questions and Keith answering them without thinking them through.

 

“You said you ‘thought you’d like it’ if I asked you to stay. What did you mean?” Whispered Lance from his half of the bed.  
“I don’t really think it’s some big secret that I don’t get a lot of sleep, and sleeping last night was really easy. I didn’t feel like I had to watch my back or sleep with my knife under my pillow.” Keith mumbled, “It isn’t even finally getting to sleep that’s hard for me. I don’t get how people can wake up in the morning and just be ready to take on the day’s challenges. I don’t know how anyone opens their eyes and is so sure that they can do it.”

 

Lance looked at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a line. His fingers wove together, resting in his lap.

 

“And I know how to play the game where you say everything’s okay and pretend that it will be. I always win that game, but sometimes I lose the pieces and I have to waste my day looking for a reason to get up and eat.”

 

“Keith.” 

 

“And I’m not looking for pity, because I’m not really unhappy, I’m just coping.”

 

“Keith.”

 

“I’m comfortable here, is what I’m saying.”

 

“Keith.”

 

Keith went silent, making a valiant attempt to perform telepathy and delete Lance’s memory of the conversation. Meanwhile, Lance shifted closer, reaching out to take Keith’s hand, pinning it between both of his and resting against him. The silence was near deafening, before Lance, as always, broke it.

 

“I can tell you one thing. As hard as being around people is, sometimes you can find reasons in them to do it. Voltron isn’t a reason to get up, it’s a reason to stay in bed and pretend you haven’t woken up yet, because you know it’s going to be another long day.” He said, voice finally above a whisper. 

 

“If you can’t find a reason to get out of bed and eat, I’ll be your reason. Remind yourself that if you don’t do it, I’ll have to come after you and pull you out of bed.” 

 

Keith smiled weakly at that, relishing in the warmth his words provided. His cheek rested on the curve of Lance’s collarbone eyes fluttering shut to enjoy the attention for once. Lance let go of Keith’s hand in favor of curling his arms around him to just hold him close, to provide pressure stimulation, and murmur comforting phrases. Footsteps in the hallway went unnoticed by the both of them as Keith shifted to drape his legs over Lance’s lap, forehead bumping the side of his neck in the process. 

 

“What part of earth do you miss the most?” Keith murmured.

 

“Summer nights back home. We used to stay with family and sit on the beach at night and I don’t feel as afraid to exist there. I miss it. Not even in a sad way, either, I just wish I could find the part of me that lived there before the Garrison. You know? It just takes so much out of you, going there, it’s so taxing and different, and that’s okay but I miss feeling like the world was my oyster, you know?” Lance’s voice was flat and hopeless, lacking its usual spark.

 

“Yeah, I think I get it.” Keith thoughtlessly kissed the top of Lance’s shoulder, curling his arms tighter around him, “I don’t think that part of you is lost, I think it’s just in the past. Like, you’ll never be that person again, but that doesn’t mean that who you were before the Garrison is gone, you’ve just grown and changed with age. I can’t speak from experience, but I can say that I’m glad you are who you are and I know both of your families are insanely proud of you.”

 

“Both of your families are proud of you, too. Especially me.” Lance smiled at him, squeezing him gently.

 

Keith’s head rested back on Lance’s shoulder, body pivoted to tuck his shoulder up against Lance’s arm. His eyes fell shut, lips curving into a contented smile. Lance’s hand rubbed up and down his back, over his shoulder and down to the small of his back and back up again. The room remained quiet, littered with little murmurs and hums as they sleepily lied against each other. The only interruption was Lance literally falling asleep and letting his head drop back against the wall, startling both him and Keith into the land of the living.

 

“Do you want to go to sleep?” Keith asked, already shifting back to let Lance lie down.

 

Lance, already lying down, smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Are you still sleeping over?” 

 

“Mhmm.” He lied down too, curling up under the blankets.

 

They fell asleep in synch, bodies twisted together comfortably. No nightmares could breach the fortress they formed, and no pain could breach the armor they provided one another. The night danced away on imaginary moonbeams, twirling over constellations and forming its own to paint a picture for passerbys. Everything was, for once, just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to contact me at my blog keithscontour!!


End file.
